The heartless conqueror

Thunder of the heavens

His feet trudged through the dusty roads, and by now the sand was clumping up to his feet.

Ashok paused to roof his hand over his eyes. The sun was starting to melt away from the sky.

After his encounter with Kaurvaki the day before, he knew he had to act quickly, but by he looks of the sun, It was no use now, he would have to go back. He made up his mind and turned around.

The road was deserted, no one but he was there. The only sound that could be heard was the billowing of the dust in the wind.

He scanned the area. There were three different paths that were shakily etched out if one looked closely at the sea grass springing about. They couldn't be called paths as they were too vague.

His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to recollect the path he came from. It had seemed simple before.

He studied the roads, and bent down to contemplate the plants in the area. The paths swerved in a loop-hole.

He stood up.

Of course! How could I not see it!

This type of intersection was bound to make anyone lost!

He kicked the rock on the ground watching it fly beyond. "I don't have time for this non-sense!", he raged at the skies, which thundered in response. As the lightning struck, a gush of rain plummeted onto the grounds, drenching Ashoka.

There was not a soul in sight! And he could barely see through the rain.

This has to happen when I am out here!

He would have to continue on somehow, until he found a shelter. The long palm trees scattered about swung violently, but the rain created an opaque view that could not be deciphered. One foot after another steped up as he trudged through.

The lightning let off a blasting cackle. He would have to make his way through quickly, so he started running, is feet slipping on the muddied road. One foot after under sprinted through, until it sunk into a pothole of damp sticky mud.

He yanked his leg upward, but it remained stuck. He tried again, but it was exactly what he feared, it was a mud-trap.

The brown fluid was clogging up onto him, the pouring rain continued. He tried to see through the haze.

Why is everything so foggy?

In haste from his hallucinations and blurry vision he looked up into the heavens screaming, "Am I being tortured on purpose!"

Dharma sat in front of the clay idols of the gods decorated with intricate designs. Her damp hair hung down from the morning bath, and her eyes were closed along with her folded palms in prayer.

"May the gods bestow well-being on my son."

"Ugh, you are praying again!"

She opened her eyes and looked at the young boy. "Ahoka! What are you saying?"

He cocked his head. "Why do you always sit there and bow in front of those idols like so."

She smiled and beckoned to her son to sit. She pat his head. "Son, we pray to them, as they are the one's who grant us food, shelter, and everything."                                                                                        "We call the almighty vidatha, and vidatha is ever compassionate and always protects us. Therefor we pray to show our uttermost surrendering and gratitude."

Her son frowned. He then scoffed, "I do not surrender to anyone!"

"Ashoka!"

He stood up with his fists clenched, "What has this vidatha done for us?! What has he done for you mother! All you have been given is pain and sorrow! Then why should I bow down to someone who hasn't done anything for us!"

"Ashoka! Do not say such things!"

"Why! It is the truth!"

"You do not know what you are saying! I am thankful for being given honor that every women dreams of! Being given a place to live under, not having to worry if you are hungry! And most of all, being given you my son, who conquers my sorrows."

"Then conquer your sorrows I shall!", he glances at the idols, "But this I will do solely by MYSELF!" And with that he turned on his heels and left, whilst a single tear fell down Dharma's face.